


Making it Their Own

by SioDymph



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, asoue fic4fic, fic4fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SioDymph/pseuds/SioDymph
Summary: When Duncan needs someone to proof-read his first major story Klaus is happy to oblige.A gift for InsideMyBrain for the asoue fic4fic event!





	Making it Their Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsideMyBrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsideMyBrain/gifts).



> Hey there InsideMyBrain! I finally have your story finished! It was fun trying to write something sweet for Duncan and Klaus, I never wrote this pair before they can be real cute. And anytime I can write these kids being happy and successful is a great time in my book. I hope you enjoy this little look into a possible future for Duncan and Klaus!
> 
> (PS: Sorry again for the mix-up and mis-gifting lol)

It was strange living on their own like this. For several years now Klaus, Duncan and their remaining family had been living together. It had been close quarters, privacy was next to impossible, but it had been comforting too. After so much time alone or on the run it felt nice having a place full of people happy to see you. People who were supportive and kind. A safe place in a world so dangerous.

But as much as they had all hated to admit it, the time came when they all needed some space. The chance to spread out and try things for themselves. Violet and Isadora had gone to the other side of the country where they lived in a small city overlooking the ocean. Quigley and Fiona meanwhile had traveled together to a far off mountain range in the wilderness. And Sunny and Beatrice had been enlisted in a private school in another country entirely where they could study in peace and regain some of the childhood they’d missed out on. Being so far apart everyone promised to stay in contact with one another, to talk about daily occurrences, thoughts or worries, but most importantly to let everyone else know if they weren’t safe and needed help. Everyone swore if danger came they would come back to whoever needed their aid. No matter how far apart they were they were still a family after all.

For Klaus and Duncan, they hadn’t chosen to go far. In fact they hadn’t even left their home city. In the dead of night the boys admitted to one another that they still had some unfinished business with the firefighters. Even if all the societies had truly been dissolved or destroyed like the rumors claimed there was still an unease both felt. They still had questions they needed answered. And even if that wasn’t possible to find any remaining clues they both at least needed a little more time to come to terms with everything they went through. They understood why the rest of their family needed to move on by leaving, but Klaus and Duncan couldn’t. At least not yet.

So while everyone went about traveling to new places, Klaus and Duncan found a small flat to share near the trolley stations. It was small but cozy, and it was high enough up that at night Duncan and Klaus could look outside and see the city shine with different lights. They had fun finding mix-matched furniture to decorate their little home. Plenty of shelves for their favorite books as well as enough wall space for any newspaper clippings and photographs Duncan found important. And there was a small table for a phonograph that filled the apartment with their favorite types of music. Mostly classical, jazz, some rhythm and blues, a little folk, and a few rock albums.

While the home they’d had with everyone else hadn’t been unwelcoming it still felt different from their little flat now. This place truly was something for just themselves. A little world built by and enjoyed solely by the two of them. And while they had never had to hide who they were, at least not to their family, it was nice having something like this where they could do whatever they liked, far away from any extra eyes. They could spend the whole day curled up together reading if they wanted. Or spend all night talking about different theories about science or society if they wished to. And whenever they felt like it they could push what little furniture they had off to the side walls and dance about the living room together as the phonograph played. The flat really did feel like their own little world.

They both hoped to continue their higher education but before that could happen they felt it might be better to obtain different jobs first. Needless to say it was hard finding professional work while looking so young.

Klaus was lucky at least, he’d managed to find a position at the local library. Granted due to his age the librarians didn’t trust him to manage the type of books he’d prefer to research. Instead they had him work in the children’s section, checking out books, straightening up shelfs, trying to keep the children from causing too much trouble. But Klaus always tried his best. Always willing to help children find books that would interest them. Actually taking the time to listen to what they had to say. He quickly became a popular figure among the kids who checked out books regularly, someone they could talk to about their problems or ask questions to without being ridiculed. And his regular little visitors ended up finding a soft spot in Klaus’s heart as well. So even though it wasn’t quite what he’d envisioned for himself, Klaus seldom complained. Not even when he’d come home exhausted from being on his feet for hours on end, dealing with excitable children. Klaus felt happy enough. Realizing that he was able to help children find solace in books, to find comfort in a library, just like they had for himself. It made him feel fulfilled in a way. Like he was putting a little more kindness back into the world after seeing so much corruption and cruelty.

Duncan unfortunately had much more trouble trying to find a job as a reporter. Newspapers were already competitive enough, and being young and inexperienced did nothing to favor Duncan. For a while he hopped from job to job among the stores in the city’s shopping district, all the while still trying to get his foot through the door with any newspapers.

But he never gave up. And neither did Klaus in supporting him. He knew his boyfriend was talented at writing. Not to mention the strong passion he had for journalism since they first met all that time ago at Prufrock. And even while adults never seemed to listen or care, Klaus kept hope that Duncan would get an opportunity to shine. To show the rest of the city, the world even, just what he could do.

And then one week he finally was given that opportunity. A small paper called “the Mockingbird’s Journal” hired Duncan. It was a fairly new company and was also fairly small. But their investigative journalism was precisely the style Duncan preferred. The head editor was unsure at first, assuming that just because Duncan was young and hadn’t pursued any higher education yet he wouldn’t make a good reporter. But they must have seen Duncan’s potential in the end and took him on. They’d admitted to Duncan though that by hiring him they were going out on a limb.

Duncan seemed adamant to not disappoint.

And so all week he worked on his first professional article for the Mockingbird. It was a piece on the rising conflict between Mulctaury Money Management and several other banks in the city. In just a few days Duncan had gone to practically every bank in town, organizing meetings with any officials willing to speak to him, holding interviews with the few who did agree, and slowly piecing together all the different testimonies and evidence to formulate his own report.

He dedicated himself fully to the article. Most nights Duncan came home even later than Klaus. Dead on his feet as he shuffled through their front door and collapsed onto the faded chaise lounge they used as a couch. But he’d only rest his eyes for a few minutes before forcing himself back up, walking to the desk placed by the window, and began pouring over all his notes and photos.

Once he collected enough reliable information he finally began typing out his rough drafts. At first he’d tried writing at night, but the constant clacking sound had made it impossible for Klaus to sleep. Duncan had felt horrible as soon as it was pointed out to him by a rather grumpy Klaus, his hair messy and the scowl on his face colored grey by the bags under his eyes. And while the sight was endearing to Duncan it also reminded him there was still people and life outside of his article. Duncan had apologized and tried to make it up to him, kissing him on the cheek and sleeping right at Klaus’s side the whole night. After that he only typed during the day, usually when Klaus had already left for work at the library.

Once he’d begun writing it was next to impossible to get him to stop. No matter how hard he’d try not to form a bad habit it seemed as soon as he sat down to write blinds came up along the sides of his eyes and the rest of the world melted away. For hours on end he would type, stop to making editing notes in pen, look over his documents for any information he misinterpreted, then retype. And this pattern would continue again and again. Until the sun was preparing to set and either he on his own, or with Klaus’s gentle nagging would finally leave his desk, eat some dinner and try to get a full night’s rest. But no matter what it seemed like Duncan’s mind was stuck on his story. Thinking over sentences and tiny details he could alter. All to make certain his first professional article was as perfect as humanly possible. He read it over countless times, forwards and backwards and any other direction to check for anything flawed.

Eventually it came to the point where there were no more changes Duncan could see that could improve his work. But still unsure he held off submitting his story a day early of its due-date assigned by the Mockingbird’s head editor. Instead one night he timidly asked his boyfriend if he would mind reading it over to check for any errors or improvements.

With the books he’d read from his late Aunt Josephine permently catalogued in his brain thanks to his photographic memory, and always happy to help his boyfriend, Klaus obliged easily. Sitting down on their lounge with a warm cup of tea at his side Klaus began to carefully read through the article. Clicking his blue pen ready to make any gentle critiques.

It was more than interesting, or engaging. It enthralled.

Almost instantly Klaus felt himself being pulled into the story, the conflict between all the rivaling banks, and the conspiracies linked to each one. Even if Klaus hadn’t been a witness to how hard Duncan had worked you could see just how much he’d dedicated himself to the article in his writing alone. No small detail was looked over. And every claim he made was backed by reliable pieces of evidence and direct testimonies. But it still sounded like him, he’d give his own opinions and observations. In every word Klaus could practically hear his boyfriend’s voice, using that tone of voice he reserved for their easy-going debates over science and the news. Something about that made Klaus’s heart flutter with warmth. There was no way anyone but Duncan Quagmire could have written this.

When he finally reached the end of the article he realized the blue pen in his hand went completely unused. He scanned the article over an extra time just to check for any spelling or grammatical errors. But he found none. It was flawless.

“So,” Duncan began nervously, when he saw Klaus was done reading. “What do you think? And don’t worry about being too harsh, I need some good criticism.”

Klaus found himself laughing and shook his head. “I- Well, I couldn’t really find anything wrong with it. You wrote an amazing article.” It was perfect… Duncan was perfect.

Duncan for his part seemed suspicious and a little disappointed. “Seriously? Come on, there has to be something else I could do, anything that needs improvement? Did you even check for grammar?”

“I did. And I couldn’t find a single mistake. Your grammar was impeccable. As well as your spelling, word choice and sentence structure.”

“Stop it.” Duncan said, beginning to blush on his face. “I need the criticism.”

“Well, criticism doesn’t always have to be negative. It can also reflect on what a writer or artist does well.” Klaus argued back with a soft smile. It wasn’t his fault his boyfriend wrote so well.

Duncan rolled his eyes at Klaus’s words. “I know that… So you don’t see anything wrong with my article? It all makes sense? Looks professional? Like an actual reporter wrote this?”

Klaus got up from the chaise and placed the final draft back in Duncan’s hands. Though once he did his hands lingered over Duncan’s before slowly drawing away. “As a matter of fact, your investigations on Mulctuary are more professional than most of the stories I do read in the paper.”

Duncan still seemed doubtful but Klaus continued. “It was thoroughly investigated and you made sure to give every testimony an equal voice and counter-argument. No information was under or over exaggerated to help you make a point. You stated the facts as they are. And you still managed to breathe life into the subject matter, you gave it your own voice. It was beautiful.”

“Journalism isn’t supposed to be beautiful. Unless it’s a puff-piece perhaps.” Duncan murmured, turning away.

Not even thinking Klaus reached up and gently held the sides of Duncan’s face. “Well it was to me. And believe me, when people read this next week they will be amazed. You’ll make people care about the banks. About anything you write. Because if you ask me you _already are_ a phenomenal journalist.”

“Do you really think so?” Duncan asked in a smaller voice. He looked directly into Klaus’s eyes.

Klaus didn’t reply immediately to that. But Duncan didn’t pull himself out of his grasp either. If anything he found himself listing forwards. Both still looked deeply towards each other as if their conversation was still happening, now being translated through a shifting eye or nervous twitch of the lips. Vaguely Duncan could see Klaus inching closer as well and without realizing who exactly initiated it they were kissing. It was short lived as Klaus pulled away.

“I know so.” Klaus said with no room for argument, and looking at Duncan with pure adoration.

Sure enough a week later Duncan’s first article “A Not-So-Friendly Competition amongst the City’s Banks” was published in the Mockingbird’s Journal. It was a smashing success among the young newspaper’s small-but-growing audience. The chief editor too was vastly impressed with Duncan’s work and invited him to the Mockingbird’s team as an official full-time writer. In fact the only people who seemed to dislike the article was a group of higher-ups from some of the banks. Then again they all chose to paint one another in such negative lights and Duncan refused to alter any of their quotes from interviews, so he was hardly at fault for simply publishing their direct words.

Violet, Isadora, Quigley, Fiona, Sunny and Beatrice somehow all obtained copies of the article. And before Duncan knew it six letters came in from everyone praising him for his wonderful work, as well as asking him and Klaus how life was like back home in the city.

As for Klaus, he couldn’t have been more proud of his boyfriend if he tried. He had the first issues of the story he could find framed and hung it up in their apartment. Right in-between a lovely hand-written thank-you note a child wrote for Klaus at the library and a portrait of the boys and all their family walking along Briny Beach about a year ago.

All three framed documents acted as a promise for Klaus and Duncan. Their past may have been troubled and twisted but they made it out alive and whole. They still had a family. They still had promising futures ahead of them. And they would always find love and happiness together.


End file.
